


Put a Plaster On It

by AbjectThread



Series: Shakarian Fluff [3]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Actually bleeding out here, F/M, Plasters fix anything right?, Seriously I'm fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbjectThread/pseuds/AbjectThread
Summary: A few moments here and there through the trilogy where Shepard or Garrus needed a bit of patching up.





	Put a Plaster On It

Garrus was standing at the holodisplay in the Battery, as he had been for a while now. This was the most complicated set up he’d ever seen, way beyond anything he’d tinkered with on Palaven and it was a little discomfiting if he was honest with himself. Going along with Commander Shepard, leaving C-Sec had seemed like a great idea at the time, but a niggling thought remained in the back of his mind. Who the heck was this person? She had been polite and business-like with him, even cracking a smile once or twice. He had found himself jumping to attention, eager to help her in whatever way he could and more than a little stung when after he took that shot to protect the doctor, Shepard had spoken heatedly, rebuking him for risking the doctor’s life.

His heart stopped in that moment, disproportionately afraid she would rescind her offer and he would be forced to return to boss at C-Sec with his tail between his legs and beg for his job back. But having extracted a promise from him that he would listen to her orders in the field without questions from that moment on, she seemed satisfied and had let the matter drop. Curiouser and curiouser. At C-Sec he would’ve gotten a formal reprimand from his bosses, and slaps on the back from the other officers. Back in the military on Palaven, he would’ve gotten a dishonourable discharge. And yet for her, his word seemed to be enough.

He was still staring at the holodisplay unseeingly when the door behind him slid over, and her voice called out.

“Garrus? You there?”

He turned in time to see her striding through the doorway, nose buried in a datapad as she walked towards him. She wasn’t looking up as she walked, not noticing the low-hanging pipework extending from the ceiling which Garrus had already knocked into several times.

“Shepard—”

“I need to talk to you about the schematic designs—”

“Shepard, watch it—”

“There’s something here I just—”

“SHEPARD!”

But too late. Her head collided with a particularly vicious elbow pipe hanging in just the wrong spot over the walkway. He winced at the crack of her skull on the ringing metal, watching as her head bounced back comically and she stumbled for a moment. Dashing forward, he grabbed her arms as she collapsed like a sack of potatoes and hung limp until he gently laid her down on the floor.

“Unnnnnhhhh…”

She groaned, eyelids fluttering as he cradled her awkwardly against his chest and tried to inspect the wound.

“Crap, Shepard, are you alright?”

She mumbled a bit, eyes half shut and obviously completely out of it. One of her hands began to wander, feeling his hand supporting her side before moving up his arm to his elbow, and then his shoulder. Garrus flicked his mandibles out, feeling suddenly hot under his undersuit. He realised as her fingers explored that he had never been this close to a human before. When her fingers reached the bare skin of his neck he felt his heart beat faster as her fingertips trailed across his hide, up behind his mandible. He swallowed hard, trying to focus. Turians had thick plating on their heads, and a highly developed cushioning system that protected them from such injuries. What was he supposed to do?

“Oh geez—what—fuck—happened”

Her words came out a bit slurred, but her head flopped towards him and he could see her struggling to open her eyes.

“Take it easy,” Garrus said, easing himself down to the floor where he could support her properly without losing feeling in his legs. “You hit your head.”

“The hell I… did.” A tiny frowned crossed her face as if she were trying to remember. Garrus couldn’t help but smile at her intractability. Just like at the Council meeting.

“That’s a nasty bump, Shepard, I think I should call Chakwas…”

She had her eyes open now and was staring up at him blearily, like the lights were on but no one was home.

“’s fine” she said.

“There’s a lump on your skull.”

“Was always there...”

“I can see it growing. That’s quite remarkable.”

“’M fine, really.”

“Uh huh. I can see a cut, there’s blood coming out now”

“Jus’ put a plaster on it.”

“It’s a lot of blood”

“So, use a bigger plaster.”

Garrus grinned, shifting her further up his arm.

He couldn’t argue with that logic.

 

* * *

 

 

“What is wrong with you, you moron!” Shepard stormed into the back room of a seedy bar in the back streets of Omega. Garrus winced, holding a towel to his head while keeping his other hand in a bucket of iced water. Even in his state, he knew this hadn’t been his finest evening.

“Geez Shepard, my ears are ringing like the Bells of Nifaar back home, can you turn the volume down a bit?”

Shepard stalked up to him and for one horrible moment, he thought she was going to smack him upside the head like she did with some of the recruits now and then. He was still a little punch-drunk, they’d landed a few hefty punches before he put a stop to it. He swayed a little, working to keep his good eye focused on her face.

“Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

She was standing in front of him now in full battle kit, hands on hips and glaring at him. Her eyes flashed as she angrily brushed away the fiery red hair that had fallen across her face in her hast to reach him.

“God you look sexy when you stand like that.”

It just sort of popped out of his mouth with no forethought whatsoever. His voice was low and husky, all he wanted to do was reach out and touch her. He’d never forgotten how soft her skin was or how it felt as he many fingers wandered along his skin. Her jaw dropped open, the seconds of silence stretching as she stared at him in astonishment.

He didn’t regret saying it, not really. He hadn’t planned on saying it, hadn’t even really known he felt like that. Garrus watched emotions cross her face from where he was slumped against the wall: shock, disbelief, irritation. Pleasure? That one couldn’t be right. Maybe they’d hit him harder than he thought.

Finally she shook herself, seeming to pull herself together and think clearly.

“You need stiches. I’m calling for a med-evac.”

“’s fine” he said, giving her a mischievous, lopsided grin. “Jus’ put a plaster on it.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Lean on me Shepard, we’re almost there!”

Shots whizzed over their heads, biting at Garrus’s shields that had reluctantly pushed outwards to cover Shepard. They had been out for hours, battling through Geth to try to reach Saren…until the tide had turned. Two full shuttles of reinforcements arrived when their ammo was already depleted and hopelessness was setting in. Then a Geth Prime had gotten lucky, landing a bullet in the circuitry and power supply of Shepard’s armour. She had grunting, crashing into Garrus who had been crouching next to her behind a concrete barrier.

Blood poured from a shrapnel wound to her shoulder that had bitten through thinner fabric between the plates with ease and pierced deep into the muscle. Garrus could feel its warmth flowing over his hand that crushed a soaked dressing into the hole in to stem the flow. The Mako was just over the ridge, if only they could get back to it…

“Whatcha worried ‘bout big guy?” Her words were almost incoherent from where her head lolled on his shoulder. Her feet stumbled along beneath her, seemingly with a life of their own and almost tripping Garrus up as he pushed through toward to Mako. He could see it come into view, and then a few painful steps and they were there.

Garrus wrenched the door open and shoved her inside as his shield crashed. Exposed and vulnerable he dived inside and scrambled to pull the door shut behind him. The noise from outside was cut off instantly until only the faint pings of bullets rang on the body armour of the truck. Shepard was spreadeagled on the bench seat in the back, watching the blood from her shoulder drip steadily onto the footwell and pool.

“Think we’re gonna need a wet floor sign here.” She mumbled, eyes closing a little more.

Garrus grabbed her hand and pulled her face towards him. She was losing too much blood and there was nothing he could do: Chakwas was on the ship only minutes away but the aerial fire was too heavy for Joker to get through. Meanwhile the person he loved was bleeding out and the was powerless to stop it. He pulled out a new wad of bandages and pressed them into the wound desperately but could already feel the wetness seeping up from below. She couldn’t die like this. She just couldn’t.

“What’re you talking about Shepard? Just a plaster, right?”

Shepard smiled, her eyes finding his for a moment, before drifting shut.

 

* * *

 

He found her in the rubble of the Citadel, twelve hours after the explosion. He had pulled away from the others, seeking solitude in his grief until he couldn’t remember how long it had been since he’d seen them. It didn’t matter. He was empty. There was nothing left except searching. He didn’t even know what for really.

He knew they had won: well, that she had won it for them. But victory seemed hollow in the face of her loss. She had been such an important part of his life for so long now, he couldn’t fathom that she might just cease to be there one day. It would all fall apart without her. The Reapers had gone, yes, but so were the relays, the greater part of the galaxy’s forces, every piece of infrastructure and trade routes were gone.

Everything teetered in the balance, like that millisecond after you force all the breath out of your lungs. In that moment, you could seize life with both hands and take a huge breath in a moment of infinite relief, and possibility. Or the next breath could desert you, steel bands tight about your chest until it seems like there is not a molecular of air left inside you. Then everything fails, one organ at a time, gagging for oxygen that will never come.

He heard the beacon when he was so tired, he could barely stand. It was faint, must’ve been damaged during the destruction of the Citadel. Garrus has flung himself towards it, wrenching pylons and cladding out of the way, crawling through shattered concrete and twisted struts until he saw a figure crumpled beneath the frame of a window panel. It had shattered on top of her, and she was covered with pearly drops of glass that shone in the flickering light of a fire still burning nearby.

In a daze he pushed himself towards her, hardly believing it was real. Garrus fell to his knees in front of her, to exhausted to stay upright. He shivered as his eyes travelled over her form.

Her whole body was burned. He could see where the carbon-fibre plating had melted onto her and fused onto her skin. She lay on her side, one arm lying at an odd angle beneath her as she slumped over onto her front. He couldn’t breathe, the smell of burning flesh was in his nostrils, his mouth, it filled his mind and he gagged until his body finally realised there was nothing there to bring up.

Horrified, he reached a tentative hand out to touch her shoulder. The plating was cool now, less damaged than elsewhere. Exactly over the spot Chakwas had pulled out a jagged piece of geth armour so long ago. He tugged a little, his chest tightening as he pulled her over onto her back. Her faceplate was smashed so he pulled the helmet away, smoothing back the rich red hair he had adored so much.

Her eyelids flickered and she stirred a little. He was so tired. Tired until his bones hurt, so tired he felt he could lie down beside her and sleep and never wake up. Garrus blinked the sweat out his eyes. Salty. Everything was so far away now. But he could see Shepard’s eyes searching blearily around herself. He gently picked up her hand, the one still encased in its glove and relatively unscathed. Her eyes finally found his, and a small smile eased over her features.  

“Hey big guy.” Her voice was small, emanating from between cracked lips that struggled to form the words. He slumped down next to her, burying his face in her hair and breathing in the scent that was uniquely her.

“’s ok right?” he said. She nodded, just enough for him to see. He rested his forehead against hers and breathed.

“Think we’re going to need more than a plaster for this one.” He mumbled. He could feel a shuddering in her chest as she chuckled painfully and pressed her lips to his mandible.

“What’re you talking about…’s jus’ a flesh wound.”

**Author's Note:**

> I confess I wrote this super fast and haven't looked over it. Hope it's ok?! And that I don't regret posting it now.


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